


Lipstick On

by hiei700



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, shower, they cuddle after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiei700/pseuds/hiei700
Summary: A drowsy round of red kisses, loving touches, and fluffy elaborations.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Drowsily written, drowsily proof-read.

"Goddammit!"  Steam continued to collect up on the bathroom mirror, clouding the medicine cabinet from view and leaving Allen's reflection hidden behind warm waters.  He smiled fondly, lips turning upwards as he opened the door only just enough to peek out.  

 

There, on the large queen-sized bed, sat his cursing boyfriend, fuming over a little black tube clutched in his hand.  It was roughly the size of his thumb, and yet he was so furious with the tiny object.  It was, in short, amusing.

 

"She left one again?"  He pulled the bath towel a bit tighter around himself, fingers gripping the delightfully plush fabric.

 

"Yes!  Every fucking time!  I sat on the damn thing.  Probably threw her coat on the bed when she went to the bathroom."  Obviously pissed, Kanda popped the cap off, a shiny pink ring now surrounding the exposed length of lipstick.  It was a dark rouge, something Lenalee had undoubtedly bought on one of her impulse-shopping trips.  A little bunny with heart-shaped ears located on the tube's side greeted Kanda.  Free of animal cruelty, yet somehow still a literal pain in the ass. 

 

“Mmm, it looks new.  You’re going to give it back, right?”

 

“I should just throw it out.  Serves it right.”

 

"Oh, calm down."  The two were both exhausted.  After inviting over a few old friends for a dinner, eating with them, putting up with them "knocking over all our shit," then cleaning up after them all, they had decided to go into their room and savior what rest they could get.  Allen had jumped at the chance to get a shower, while Kanda merely stripped down to his boxers and tried to relax.

 

"'Calm down'?"

 

"Yes, you know, control your temper?  I know you're God-awful at that, but" he smirked, pushing a little tuft of white hair behind his ear, taking the brief pause in his speech to appreciate the constant, rain-like pattering of the shower spray against the tub wall.  "It's not like you haven't had larger things stuck up your ass before."  Cheekily, he poked his tongue out at his boyfriend, watching the transition from pissed, to surprised, to smug and amused.

 

"Not  _ much _ larger."  He held up the lipstick tube this time, tilting it a bit between his fingers as he quirked a brow up to Allen.  The Brit responded with a set of angry eyes and puffed-out cheeks.

 

"Ha-ha, very funny,  _ Bakanda.   _ Maybe I was talking about the giant stick up your arse, huh?"

 

"Sounded to me like you had something different in mind."

 

"Well I didn't.  Especially when you won't even shower before bed.  I bet you still smell like soba."  

 

"I shower in the morning, before you get up."

 

"Doesn't count.  I don't get to appreciate it all night."

 

"Well maybe if you didn't take hour-long soaks."

 

"Maybe if you'd understand that my  _ baths  _ are relaxing and good for you, you could loosen up a bit." At this point, Allen was delighting himself in the lightness of their usual banter, one hand on the doorframe as the entrance squeaked open a bit more to fully reveal his smiling face.  Kanda's own expression softened in response, if only for a brief moment, before he stood from his seat on the bed with a shitty smirk.  

 

"Loosen up a bit, huh?"

 

"Kanda, c'mon, I'm already tired."  He laughed a bit, and despite his words, creaked the door open further.  Taking a step back as the older man stepped in, Allen glanced over to the tub, where the shower head was currently splattering water across the shower floor and wall.  He wasn't even intending to take the effort to draw a bath tonight because of how exhausted he felt, but a glance at Kanda as he shut the door softly behind him, and, well, "I'm already tired; don't make my ass hurt too."

 

"You must really think I'm an awful person."  Kanda scoffed, reaching out to comb a few pieces of Allen's hair from his face.

 

He then stepped closer with the intent to run a thumb over Allen's cheek, only to remember that his other hand wasn't exactly free.  Bringing it up to view, he still held the little tube of makeup, raising a brow in brief surprise.  Evidently, in his sleepy state, he had forgotten to put it down.  Allen glanced between his boyfriend and the lipstick.  Suddenly, his drowsy eyes widened a bit, and Kanda caught onto it right away.

 

"Don't you dare."

 

"Dare what?"

 

"Dare do what I know you're going to."

 

"Mmm, but it's pretty tempting."  Kanda had tuned into the tacit threat right after he saw that cute deer-in-the-headlights expression crashed across Allen's silver eyes.  He leaned forward a bit, effectively trapping Allen against the wall of their relatively small bathroom.

 

"If you so much as- Kanda!  No!"  But it was too late; his swatting couldn't take back the little red heart now splayed over his right cheek.  Kanda seemed satisfied, but eager at the same time.  

 

Apparently, he wasn't so tired anymore.

 

"You prick!"

 

"Hold still,  _ Moyashi. _ "  Allen continued to try to hit his boyfriend, his left arm effectively holding back Kanda's offending right hand.  His other arm, although doing a good job at hitting away the man's attempts to grab him, was also torn between defense and integrity.  The towel he had on was slipping down, and he desperately needed to pull it up.  If Kanda wasn't going to be civil, then he didn't deserve the view; simple as that.

 

"Why are you such a dick?"  The whine was followed shortly by a chuckle, then in an unexpected show of yielding, Kanda stepped back.  He gave Allen an odd look as the Brit pulled up at his bath towel.  

 

Odd, but smug.

 

Within a few seconds, Kanda had internally decided that his current method wasn't very effective. With a rather malicious look, he changed gears.

 

Holding down a smirk to the best of his capabilities, Kanda smeared the small, sanguine stick over his own lips, rubbing them together briefly before opening his mouth with a pop.

 

Allen paled, both terrified and excited.

 

"C'mere, Sprout.  Let your boyfriend kiss you."

 

"I swear to God if- no!  No!"  He was absolutely yelling by now, cheeks suddenly blooming to life as Kanda crept closer, only to abruptly lunge at him.  He nearly screamed, reaching out to push Kanda's face away with his own scarred palm.  In a panic of laughter, cursing, and exhilaration, he scrambled onto the counter.  A few bottles toppled over, and he had to duck to not hit his head off the ceiling, but it was his only last hope of escape.

 

That, hope however, didn't last long.

 

He was trying to grip onto the shelf in front of the mirror, shimmy himself out of the bathroom, and hold off Kanda and his evil intentions all at the same time.  A desperate jump off the marble had him suddenly in the arms of his terrible and cruel boyfriend, who immediately planted a kiss on the back of his neck, laughing evilly as the smaller man in his arms flailed around.  He was shorter than Kanda, and his toes could barely brush the soft, pastel rug beneath them.

 

"You jackass!  You absolute jackass!"  He was yelling, certainly, and it seemed angry enough to the average person, but it was hard to miss the big grin plastered across his lips.

 

"You'll be even madder once you see just how much is all over you."  Kanda snorted from behind him, now placing his lips on Allen's collar bone, muffling his laugh as the little pianist gasped.

 

"You  _ asshole _ !"  Across his torso, disappearing around his sides, were startling red lines, smudged back and forth—most likely from his own squirming.

 

There, in Kanda's right hand—positioned almost tenderly over Allen's heart—lay the culprit: by this point a rather sad-looking, red stick.

 

"You're a monster!"  

 

"If you would have just kept still~" and here, Kanda chose to lean up and place a kiss on Allen's jawline, only to have the Brit push his face away immediately after.

 

"You're a dick, you know that?"

 

"You have your moments too," a little kiss to his shoulder, "but yeah, I know." 

 

"What- Kanda!  You," the hand that was previously wrapped around his waist was trailing down and tugging at his already disheveled towel.  "Don't you even think about it."  His feet were on the ground once more, and Kanda hummed, instead tenderly running his fingers across Allen's stomach.

 

"Is that a no?"  From behind, right near his ear, Kanda's voice was incredibly enticing.  Level, yet excited; Allen was being given a choice.  He bit his bottom lip, eyes closing in thought.  They held it there for a moment, Allen's breathing coming back to normal as he considered it.

 

"Well," Allowing the corners of his lips to lift, the musician mumbled something softly, left hand reaching up to trail a few fingers over Kanda's chin.  "Since you're so intent on having your mouth all over me, I'll let you continue."  The smooth English accent had Kanda giving the slim waist before him a resolute squeeze, chuckling before placing a kiss on the tip of Allen's ear, lipstick long smudged dry across his face.

 

"Making me get on my knees on the hard bathroom floor?"

 

"'M not making you do anything, idiot."  He desperately wanted to see Kanda's face—to catch a glimpse of embarrassment or a shimmer of arousal, but instead, his boyfriend continued to lay his lips across Allen's scarred shoulder, his right hand blazing lazy, lacy crimson designs across his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Lenalee would be mad later.

 

"I'll suck you off, but I'd rather be in the shower so you don't dry on my hair."  Blunt as always, Kanda refused to dance around the point at hand, and Allen both respected and hated it.

 

"Romantic."

 

"It's probably the lipstick."

 

"I hate you so much."  His quip was immediately followed by a scoff, then a soft groan.  Allen nearly melted back into Kanda's grasp as his free hand now slid down into Allen's lopsided towel.  The fabric unintentionally and immediately fell, leaving Allen out in the open.  He shivered, reaching his right hand back to aimlessly try to find and grasp Kanda's ass, left hand still holding onto his face. 

 

"Eager?"

 

"For you to finally shut up, yes."  Kanda laughed—a light, mellifluous sound that the musician had gone years without hearing.  Only just recently has the man unraveled himself to him, and now in one of their most intimate moments, Allen couldn't have been more thankful for it.

 

"Get in the shower, Sprout."  

 

Allen hummed, but he didn't move without giving his prize—Kanda's rather muscular rear that he spent the past few seconds trying to find—an enthusiastic squeeze.  Kanda responded accordingly with a pert little roll of his hips.

 

They had been together for awhile now, so it was a bit of a wonder how Allen still felt more than naked under those sharp, azure eyes. His immediate habit was to cover his left arm to the best of his abilities, watching as Kanda let his hair free.  The ponytail rolled easily up his wrist, ink-like strands falling over his shoulders and down his back, brushing past his hips.  Allen was fond of the view, but his boyfriend didn't seem equally as happy.

 

"Sprout."  He nodded forward, the beautiful expanse of hair he had following in the motion.  It was hypnotizing, but Allen wasn't tired enough to miss what he was gesturing to.  Dazed, he turned to his own left side and removed his right hand from his left shoulder, pulling his arm out from behind his back again.  It seemed that his drowsy state had allowed the old habit to bubble back up.

 

When he looked back to Kanda, he had managed to shed his boxers somewhere, half-hard and on full display for Allen to see.  Fully, he was somewhere around 6 inches—not that Allen ever bothered to ask for exact measurements.  He just had a little experience in the department before actually getting together with Kanda when he was, what, seventeen or something?  Either way, after enduring endless teasing from some coworkers at his old concert hall, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the stereotypes didn't exactly hold up.

 

"You're staring."

 

"Like you aren't."  

 

"Red's a good color on you."  Kanda stepped into the tub, immediately running his hands over Allen's body.  The Brit returned the gesture by stepping closer, one hand pulling a nice section of quickly-dampening inky strands to his lips.  His other hand reached to the side and slid the curtain as far shut as he could.

 

They were isolated, and Kanda was more than happy to have Allen completely to himself.

 

His lips found themselves upon Allen's pulse, relishing in the little sigh that resulted.  He continued that treatment for a bit, one arm firmly around Allen's waist, the other trailing water up and down the scarred, painted chest before him.

 

The shower, Kanda noted hazily as he connected their lips, was a little colder than what he preferred. Allen was so small before him—his shoulders and his slender hips—so how the boy didn't freeze was a mystery.

 

Water had long been pouring from the top of his head, turning his hair into a sheet of navy blue that sought to grab both Allen and him at every opportunity.  Allen's usually cotton-soft hair wasn't much better, though now it was incredibly easy to push back so he could fully appreciate the view.  

 

Water streamed down from a subtle, white widow's peak, spilling to either side of a little, pert nose. Silver eyes stared up at him in a drowsy anticipation, and flushed cheeks set his white lashes off quite nicely, even against his usually pale skin.  The scar leading down the left side of his face did nothing to take away from his beauty; if anything, it only added to the unique sense of a blazingly soft exterior.

 

Allen Walker was breathtaking, and Kanda wanted to take his breath away.

 

"Back up a little."  They were kissing again, but Allen obeyed the whispered command.  Heels bumped the sloped wall of the tub.  His shoulders were firmly against the wall of the bath, and when he opened his eyes again, a few pants a little strand of drool leaking from his lips, he was facing the shower head straight on.  Kanda's head had ducked down to his neck again, covering it with kisses and nips.

 

"'S cold."  He complained through a hum, a little envious that Kanda had the warm water now solely on him.  His attempts to pull his boyfriend closer were thwarted by the stubborn artist, who insisted to pull away every once in awhile to look Allen over.  It was almost as if he expected the musician to suddenly disappear, though given Kanda's mental state, Allen wouldn't have doubted it if he was exactly right.  Still, leaving?  With Kanda lowering his head and kissing gentle, loving, electrifying trails down his body—leaving seemed commensurate to a death-sentence.  

 

"It'll heat up."  Allen could only groan at his boyfriend's response, eyes shutting briefly as two lips kissed just slightly below his navel before moving off to the side to press against his hip (not without stopping to kiss the long scar running down Allen's right side, of course).

 

The shower spray rained across Kanda's shoulder blades and down his back, a majority still landing in and slipping down his long, silky hair that managed to mostly collect down the length of his spine, twisting elegantly in a way that reminded Allen of a dragon, the bruising grip on his hips only adding to the perception.  Allen's hands had long lost their holds on Kanda's skin, now solely running through the damp strands that occasionally fell across his forehead.  He looked cute when he pushed his hair back—something the musician fuzzily remembered him doing for a date or two here and there.  

 

"Kanda, c'mon."  The soft whine was spurred by a hand trailing up his thigh.  Kanda's lips were still teasingly trekking everywhere but where he needed them.  In an attempt to encourage him, Allen rolled his hips forward, sliding against Kanda's cheek.  The bastard ignored the plea, kissing the juncture of his thigh and groin as if he hadn't noticed it at all.  " _ Kanda _ ."

 

"Mm, you're impatient."  Azure eyes finally deigned to meet his gaze, contentious and hazy. 

 

"You're slow."

 

"Usually you're pissed because you want more foreplay."

 

"Not when I'm about to fall asleep during sex."  Allen punctuated his irritation with another soft thrust forward.  Kanda answered it with a kiss to the side of his length.  

 

"I was just taking some time to admire the view."  He clicked his tongue, but immediately went to work on his boyfriend's little problem.  In all honestly, Kanda loved the way the bright red lipstick had faded to dusty rose streaks under the shower head.  The makeup hadn't even come close to completely coming off, which Allen had thankfully not noticed yet.  The heart on his cheek was still a blazing red, smudged near his lips probably due to some sloppy kissing on Kanda's part.  The artist couldn't help but to love the way his torso looked too.  Strong lines etched diagonally and horizontally into pale skin were the signs of a little struggle.  The swirling, soft loops and turns curving down and around his body were where he had gotten creative and capricious.  The tube he used was long gone, the stub pitched into the bathroom garbage, but the lines were likely to stay on Allen for quite a bit—at least until he forced his boyfriend to go buy him some makeup removal wipes.  Kanda was sure he'd get an earful later, so he might as well do his best to get a different kind of earful now.

 

"Mmm," relaxing back into the wall, Allen lolled his head to the side, watching as Kanda methodically slipped a tongue up his sides, occasionally enclosing his lips around a bit of his shaft. Hands were flowing up and down his legs as water continued to streak aimlessly down Kanda's back.  He closed his eyes, lost in the sound of the shower and the feeling of Kanda's lips.

 

A kiss to the head, and the musician barely held back a jerk forward, fingers digging into the hair he was merely petting moments ago.  If his boyfriend was bothered by it, he didn't show it—merely beginning a torturous little ice-cream cone treatment up the underside of his length.  

 

"Good... Ahhh."  One thing Kanda admittedly loved about sex with Allen was how wonderfully vocal his boyfriend became when they found themselves behind a locked door and shedding their clothes. That's not to say he didn't love it all: the array of tension flashing briefly over his face quickly being brushed away with a subsequent relief, the way his lashes stood out starkly against his flushed cheeks, the muscles in his legs tensing and relaxing like freshly-struck piano strings.  Allen Walker was a unique experience, and the fact that he was completely in love with the guy didn't hurt their sex life either.

 

"You're accent's showing."

 

"Nn, shut up."  They were a little too far into it for Allen to utter a successful snarky remark.  As much as Kanda would have loved to torture him further, Allen got grumpy if he teased too much. The artist gained a better grip on his lover's legs, slightly tan hands digging pleasantly into freckled thighs, and Allen let out a small whine, a brief pinch of pain knitting his brow.

 

Kanda cupped his tongue around the bottom of Allen's head, slipping his lips up over the top and fully enclosing his mouth around it.  His lover jerked, tilting his head back into the tiled wall as he let out a restrained hiss.

 

Their bathtub was pretty plain—Kanda absentmindedly noted as he let out a little hum—but that only made a squirming Allen stand out more against the cream walls and cloudy white curtains. Honestly, it wasn't any fun when Allen held back—often at the expense of his bottom lip.  He wasn't going to force it today, though.

 

The water tumbling down his back was beginning to feel a bit cold, and his boyfriend was probably going to tear out a good portion of his scalp if he didn't hurry it up.  His lack of focus was abnormal, but not unheard of, especially when he was tired.  Shifting back into his one-track-mind, Kanda pushed himself a little further along, inhaling steadily through his nose while Allen took in a sharp gasp.  A little over five inches, but Kanda could only really fit four.  Once he started moving, that mattered less and less to Allen.  

 

It was a slow slip down and up at first, an irritated sensation starting in Kanda's jaw.  Allen twitched and continuously tried to roll his hips, so it wasn't easy to keep from choking.  They had done this enough times for Kanda to know more or less how to cope with a little complication.  

 

"Shit, shit... ah..." out of his field of vision, Kanda was certain Allen's toes were curling fiercely.  He could hear delicate feet slipping across the tub floor, only for Allen to catch himself from falling and readjust every-so-often.  It was becoming too hard for him to hold his tongue, which was ultimately one of the many goals Kanda always set for himself: make Allen lose it.

 

The musician's mind was buzzing.  His body felt like an electric current was permanently surging through him.  Holding down his words wasn't much of an option anymore, and soon every little noise that dared to try succeeded in escaping his lips.  There was a small pause in action, which Allen jerked forward in response to, only to chance a look down and see Kanda form a little ring with his fingers and slide them right in front of his lips.  It was just a little extension trick he saw on some online forum, but it worked well.  Allen felt the half-inch more than he should have when his lover began to bob back and forth again, a curious and mischievous glint in the icy irises that were barely distinguishable behind his thick black lashes.  A deep moan toppled from his lips, and he closed his eyes once more, mind vehemently tossing around the image of thick, clear streaks leaking from Kanda's irritated lips.

 

Moments passed as easily as his pleasured sounds, and soon Allen was trembling, his only grounding being his knuckle-whitening grip in Kanda's raven hair.  Both his scarred hand and his normal hand were bound to be sore later, but that subtle pain coupled with Kanda's (now solely one-legged) grip on him were the only things keeping him from shoving himself down his lover's throat.

 

"Close.  'M close."  The little huff was barely recognizable, but Kanda picked up on it easily enough. It's what he was expecting, after all.  Another little hum later, and Allen nearly fell on top of him.  It was its own kind of erotic—seeing such a tightly woven Allen Walker unravel helplessly before him, unable to make a full sentence.  Kanda would have laughed if he wasn't so preoccupied.

 

"Mm," his hand left Allen's shaft, instead resting on his hip, the other taking up an even firmer hold on the opposite side.  The musician whimpered, tugging desperately on Kanda's hair.  

 

"S-sure?"

 

"Mmm."  By the third hum, Allen wasn't sure if he could have held back even if Kanda had opposed. Re-burying his aching fingers in even thicker sections of inky hair, he rocked his hips forward and yanked Kanda to him with a harsh tug.  It all slipped in, hitting the back of the artist's throat and immediately treated with a vicious enclosing as Kanda choked around him.  Elegant nails dug deep red crescents into Allen's hips, yet he couldn't be bothered with the pain.  Jerking forward over and over and over again, finding a sick pleasure in the assortment of sounds that came from it, Allen ravished his boyfriend's mouth.

 

Kanda's expression—knotted, tense, determined not to move—was irresistible in the Brit's clouded, hazy mind.  With a last, unstable stutter forward, he slammed himself into the side of Kanda's cheek, and felt the growing pull in his stomach finally give.  It was an immediate elation, and he couldn't even hold himself up completely, sliding out as he fell to his knees in a storm of heavy breathing.  He was acutely aware of Kanda coughing, but he couldn't actually process it.  He blinked and blearily loosened his rather stiff fingers, marveling at the few long strands that Kanda lost in the process.  A few more huffs of breathing and a good round of blinking later, and Allen realized he had fallen down into his boyfriend's legs, Kanda's hands now on his shoulders to keep him from falling back and hitting his head, or something equally as embarrassing and mood-killing.

 

Obvious was possibly an understatement, since Allen would have had to have been blindfolded to miss the hard-on brandished out from Kanda's groin.  The artist was still catching his breath, trails of white now streaking from the corners of his lips replacing the earlier drool.  In catching Allen, he had fallen back into sitting on his folded legs, water pouring into the back of his head.  Confident eyes a blaring red and pricked with tears—Allen couldn't help but to smile.  He looked even more dazed than earlier.

 

"Thanks, dear."  Allen’s voice was hoarse, but Kanda produced a growl that seemed to satisfy him nonetheless.  Looping his left arm around Kanda's neck, Allen used his free hand to work at the probably painful erection.

 

Skipping any form of warm up, he pumped his boyfriend, watching the tautness of his brow with dazed interest.  A little grunt fell from his lips, barely audible in the now seemingly buzzing shower spray.

 

"Up."  The sudden command brought a pout to Allen's face, and he responded by leaning in to place open-mouthed kisses along Kanda's shoulders and neck.  He adjusted himself a bit, still loosely straddling his lover, and hummed in defiance.

 

"I don't want to move."  Kanda's hands had migrated to his hips again. Gripping Allen, he clicked his tongue, angry even as his boyfriend worked on his arousal.

 

"My legs are going to fall asleep."

 

"Just need a minute-"

 

" _ Up _ ."  With a dramatic sigh of compliance, Allen nipped Kanda's collarbone cheekily.  He ran his right hand up Kanda's torso, admiring his physique as he pushed himself upwards to stand, legs still feeling a bit too soft.

 

"You're no fun."

 

"And you have a bony ass."  Kanda rose as well, brushing off his textured knees, then running the back of his hand over his lips in a brief cleaning attempt.

 

"You don't seem to mind it any other time."  Allen huffed and nudged him backwards a bit, pushing his boyfriend along until his own thin frame was finally under the warm water as well.  Though by now, the shower was running fairly cold.  He reached behind his lover and used his left hand to adjust the faucet, placing little kisses onto Kanda's neck.

 

"I just spent all that time on my knees in the tub floor, asshole."

 

"The tub part was your choice."  Allen hummed elatedly into Kanda's collarbone, bringing both his hands to the artist's torso and examining every little bit.  The small space between them was irritating, but he needed it to explore.  Pale fingers brushed over Kanda's inky left shoulder, tracing the petaling pattern that pleached around his shoulder and ribs and sprawled across his shoulder blade.  His left hand, scarred but equally as attentive, slowly petted him along, bit by bit.

 

The snail treatment pissed Kanda off, though, so he made it a point to dig his hands into Allen's ass. In return, he got a sharp bite to his shoulder.

 

"Who's impatient now?"  The phrase lilted past his lips, punctuated with a little kiss to the solid red oval now etched into Kanda's skin.

 

"You're asking for it next time, Sprout."  He continued to loosen and tighten his grip on Allen's admittedly small rear, rolling his hips into his lover's teasing hold. 

 

"Am I?"  It was nearly a purr, and Kanda briefly wondered if it would have been better to just let his legs go numb earlier to avoid the teasing.

 

"I'll fuck you until you cry."  Kanda knew full-well that his boyfriend wasn't ready for another round yet, and he wouldn't be anytime tonight considering how tired he was.  That didn't stop him from running a finger over the musician's entrance just as a tease.  He groaned, tilted his head to the side, and rocked forward again as Allen picked up the pace.  His threat worked, but whether it was taken _as_ _a threat_ or taken _as a promise_ was still unclear.

 

"You being rough huh?"  Despite initial assumptions, Kanda was pretty cautious in bed.  Everything flowed at this point, but earlier in the relationship, he was a mess of hesitation and mild touches.  Too many questions and too little contact.  Allen more or less dragged him along for the first few times, but now he was happier with Kanda than anyone else before.  Sliding a firm grip up and down his lover, Allen breathed out into his neck, soft laughter proceeding his words.  "You can do better than a few tears."

 

"I'd say until you- nn... scream, but... already do that."  Allen, on the other hand, was pretty physically into it from the beginning.  It was a bad habit of Kanda—thinking that if he tried to do anything at all, he'd mess it all up and push his partner away.  The musician's advances were turned down too many times to count, even after they had been dating for months.

 

"One of us has to be vocal."  Their first time was pretty quiet, though, and the rest of the night consisted mainly in Kanda clinging to Allen like he would walk out after a several-month relationship just like that.  The artist was a bit softer than he let on.

 

"Nnn."  Kanda didn't seem quite cogent enough to bite back, so Allen murmured little teases into his neck while pumping him along.  The artist responded well, rolling himself slowly into Allen's hand and tilting his head to the side to give his lover more room to play.  A little whispering and a harsh few seconds of sucking on Kanda's collarbone later, and his boyfriend had spilled over.  Allen's own first name flooded past his lips, and the Brit only continued marking him up as he worked to regain a steady breathing.  They remained like that for a few seconds, Allen pressed against him and the water flowing over his soft, snowy hair.  Kanda's expression twitched briefly as the pain swimming through his flesh finally registered.

 

"You're leaving a mark."  He was both stating the obvious and giving Allen a fair warning.  It wasn't like his lover never did it before, always careful to avoid his neck, but it was a little irritating.  No response came from Allen, but after a little while more, he pulled off of the slightly tan skin before him.  He lolled his head forward, leaning it on Kanda's chest and letting out a soft laugh.  

 

"You're so stupid."  A huff followed Allen's comment.  It would have seemed rude to anyone else, but it had become almost a running gag between them.  Kanda merely shifted his attention to running long fingers through Allen's hair, waiting for the boy to come down from his high.  The artist himself was still coming down from his own.

 

"And you're still short."  A pause.  "And covered in lipstick."  He'd find out eventually, so Kanda figured he would have better luck if he told Allen while he was in a good mood.  The little squeak that followed his lover's initial confusion was amusing, but Kanda didn't get to laugh long.  Allen was already after him with the soap, threatening to shove it up his "arse" if he didn't get it off of him. 

 

* * *

 

It took a few attempts, but after some internet searching and a few experiments with what they had in the kitchen, Kanda had rubbed Allen completely clean with a little mixture of honey and baking soda smeared onto a washcloth.  After that, the couple took to their usual shower routine of scrubbing themselves off before washing each other's hair—something they both thoroughly enjoyed.  

 

Now, though, they were simply lying in each other's arms, Allen more or less wrapped completely into Kanda.  He enjoyed the firm embrace, not to mention the warmth and the wonderful opportunity to just drink in the scent of the mango shampoo he had forced onto the poor artist.

 

Not that Kanda minded, though.  Allen knew which brands were best and which cheap brands were just as good.  Plus, like this, he could hold onto the boy as long as he pleased, one hand securely on the small of his back, the other drifting absentmindedly through his soft cotton hair.

 

"You're coming to my show tomorrow, right?"

 

"I haven't missed one for almost a year now."  Twirling the little curly ends of snowy hair between his fingers Kanda smiled, his heart taking on an extra affectionate beat for no obvious reason.  Just the feeling of Allen here, in his arms and in such a domestic setting... it was ineffable.

 

A soft laugh came from beside him.  "Has it really been that long?"  Allen adjusted a bit, only to nuzzle roughly back into the same place as before.  "God, Yu, I feel old."  Allen didn't often use his first name, whether it be out of respect or out of old habits, but Kanda found that he didn't mind it at all.

 

"It's the white hair, I'm telling you."

 

"Oh, shove off."  Another laugh, soft and sweet and  _ tired _ .  Kanda smiled again, equally as drowsy, equally as carefree.

 

"Go to sleep, Allen.  You'll fall asleep on stage."

  
"Mmm, shut up.  You go to sleep."  A sigh of relief, and Allen pulled away briefly to press his lips gently to Kanda's.  His eyes slowly shut,  and he lay his head down once more, allowing the little glimpse of his boyfriend smiling in their dark bedroom to be the last thing on his mind as he drifted off.  Holding Allen so very close to him—so concrete and yet so soft—Kanda, too, fell asleep, elation still thick in his veins, and tacit "I love you"s forever sprinkled down his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there. I'm not dead (yet). I don't think I'll be able to upload anything else for awhile, though, so bear with me here. I've got something pretty big coming up Tuesday, but I wanted to publish a little something, half cause I had it on the mind, and half to show that I'm still writing.


End file.
